Green machine dies

It's official - the green machine, our 1996 Grand Marquis, has died. Revival estimates start at $1,000, well above our willingness to spend on repairs. So the fire fighters of Ottawa will gain a new practice vehicle. I bet they could make $$$ selling tickets to watch them break into/smash up/stack cars.

Now our car hunt will start in earnest. We've never done this before, at least not for a family car. Our last 2 vehicles were my father in law's old Grand Marquis. Grand Marquises? Grands Marquis? English and pluralization, that's an exercise in illogic. So the last car we actually researched, found, test drove and bought was baby blue, a 1995 Eagle Summit. It was a terrific car.

My goal is to buy a fuel efficient hatchback or small station wagon.

I have no idea what Hugh's goal is.

This could present problems. He does the driving, so I should back off and let him decide. But I am likely to find this impossible. I could say it's because I'm a control freak, or because it's an expensive purchase and I should have a say in it, or because I've done the research so he should just shut up and do what I say. But the truth is that I like the way the little hatchbacks look, and want one.

Can you spell superficial?

Hugh will do exactly what I do - find logical, compelling reasons to buy what he likes.

This actually won't be much of an issue - we're both car averse. He once called the CAA and couldn't remember the make or model of vehicle he drove. I didn't own a car until I was over 30. As long as it fits 5 people and has a trunk, we should be happy. Hugh will also want something he's comfortable driving, a not unreasonable requirement.

A final thought. Zoe, our unnaturally responsible and lovely daughter, will be driving in under a year. A vehicle she really, really, really doesn't want to be seen in might be a plus. I did find a 1966 wood panelled station wagon that made her recoil in horror. The Chevy Astro van performs a similar function. Alas, both require nearly the entire oil output of Saudi Arabia to fill the tank, so choosing one to reduce Zoe's driving seems, well, dumb.

My summer vacation

Yes, I am FAR too old to write an essay on what I did on my summer vacation. But isn't that why I blog? To barf out what no human wants to hear?

The vacation started well - much mucking about in garden. The wounds have almost healed. Which means, of course, that I didn't get nearly enough gardening in. I blame our extremely wet weather.

Spousal unit headed over to a friend's house, in town for the weekend. His friend talked him into going out to lunch with other in town people, as it was his high school's 50th anniversary reunion. High school reunions are for people who, um, went to the high school. Not spouses. This I know. Yet my spouse insisted I go to the lunch. Fine. Drinking beer on a patio on a lovely day in June is not exactly hardship, so I went, and it was fine. Then he insisted I go to the dinner that night. I have to admit it wasn't as horrible as I imagined, but watching old people fail to recognize each other and complain about the small print on name tags is not fun.

Sunday, more mucking in dirt. Then the rest of the family headed up to the cottage as Zoe invited 2 friends and our car only holds 6. I stayed home and cleaned and watched Bon Cop, Bad Cop - much fun. Very Canadian. Worth renting, if you're in the mood for low budget humour with occasional subtitles.

My brother drove me up to the cottage the next day, meaning I got to spend an hour holding Adrian, my new nephew. It were nice, it were. He was in that rarest of newborn phases, alert and quiet. Definitely a treat. We got to the cottage, and the kids informed me the car broke. Sigh. Our vehicle was fun when it had a bit of character. It's less fun now. I'd noticed the "suspension not working" light, and assumed that it was the sensor. Or the suspension. Either way, I wasn't going to do anything about it. But driving over gravel roads in a large vehicle with 6 people and no suspension isn't good for the car, and Hugh hit a rock and the tailpipes separated.

We spent some time Tuesday lying under the vehicle, attaching wire to the tailpipes. By "we", I mean Hugh did it as I reluctantly assisted. He managed to drive the vehicle back to town, and my brother left, leaving me at the cottage, in the rain, with 3 teenage girls and 2 boys. The girls don't like bugs, and we made them mad by bringing them a large toad and an enormous spider to show them. Yes, I should grow up, but it was too much fun to resist.

Wednesday Hugh returned, with his dad's car, and I left him up there with his brother and 1 boy. He showed up at home about 2 hours after we got back. Nice timing - gave me enough time to do all the laundry and put everything away. And feed the kids.

Thursday the rain began in earnest. We used my brother in law's vehicle to do some errands, including shopping with boy #1 for a cell phone. This is a child who would rather saw off his arm than call a stranger, but he needs a cell. Ah well, it's his money. Sort of. He buys the phone, I pay the $25 a month for unlimited text and highly limited talk. So far he's texted his sister and her friends, as his friends are at camp and not textable.

While at Future Shop getting Zoe a new cell - because you know, after almost a year, the "old" one is so, like, uncool, cause, like, everyone, like, has the, like, same one, you know? I bought myself an early b-day present. I am now the proud owner of the game active, Personal Trainer for Wii. It is very cheery. I want to create an abusive personal trainer game for Wii. The trainer would be highly sarcastic and insulting. Move it, you fat slob would be the trademark line. Much better than keep it up! You're doing great! Wow, that's real energy! You're a track star! Fuck off - I'm in my bedroom, pretending to jog with a remote in one hand and a nunchuck strapped to my thigh. Track star I am not.

So, dear imaginary reader, that has been my summer vacation to date. I left out the thrilling housework, but would like to report that our basement storage area is gradually looking less cluttered. I anticipate a return to work on Monday, to be followed by a call from spousal unit informing me that our mechanic has deemed our vehicle unworthy of repair. As we don't want to spend more than $200, and it needs a new suspension, tailpipe and power steering, odds are excellent our mechanic will not do the repairs. Fortunately, said mechanic is located only 2 blocks from Cohen's, where you can drive your old junker onto the scale and get CASH for it. Baby blue, my tiny commuter bug, fetched me $130, which I promptly spent on food. That was fun. That was also at the peak of the market, when scrap metal was so valuable people were stealing manhole covers. The green machine, while easily 4x the size of baby blue, might get us $50. That's OK. It's better than spending hundreds to allow it to limp for another week or so, until the next bit breaks.

I think I'll have to take another week off, later this summer. For now, it's off to the airport to drop off my parents, who are spending 2 weeks hiking in Newfoundland. We will use their car. Yeah!

Patience: A missing virtue

I'm not the most patient of people, although I've learned to fake it over the years.

We spent the weekend - guess where - in the basement. I am beginning to hate my basement. I like the part with finished floor. I hate the visible Dricore. Also the carpet on the stairs, which reminds me that it's super ugly and I am in a state of debt that has killed ye olde inner Scot. It's true - I never wake up worried about debt. Maybe it's because 11 hours of painting trim causes me to lapse into unconsciousness.

I had budgeted about $150 for the trim - it's just a few strips of pine, right? Wrong. I spent about 20 minutes in the trim aisle at Home Depot, before going into trim overload and piling the cart high with trim that was close enough to what we have upstairs. I did my best to measure out 139 feet of the trim, and 168 feet of corner round. Plus 5 pieces of door casing. It cost $508. I just about fell over, then paid and staggered out to the car. My transport technique for items too long for the car is to open the passenger side front window and stuff everything in. We only live 6 blocks away. It worked fine.

Did you know that car repair in an older vehicle is dramatically different than in a younger one? Our check engine light came on. So we checked the oil. It's fine. I am recalling this happening on big red - we used black electrical tape to block the light, it's very distracting. So far, with the green machine, we have been more successful at not being distracted. We checked the engine, right? So until it actually develops symptoms, I assume the light came on because of a broken sensor. Denial, something Bush taught us all.

I think the children had a good long weekend. I know I fed them 3 times, and Connor and Zoe actually each cooked twice. Amazing what skills can be imparted through neglect. Maybe I should write a book about it - super passive parenting, or how to force your kids to raise themselves. It's actually terrible for their nutrition. Connor ate 2 boxes of fudgesicles. With some help from Westley. Zoe was luckier - she has a very active social life, and got actual cooked food at a friend's house. Plus she's in a health phase, imparted no doubt by her teacher in a class that used to be called home economics but now has a name I can never remember.

My garden is calling to me, really loud. But there's still trim to paint, as despite 11 hours of work it's not done. It's almost done, just about 6 pieces left. The flooring is mostly in, thanks to Hugh, who is barely mobile after 3 days on hand and knee whacking in tiny bits of highly warped floor. They say it's engineered. I say it's engineered in the same way a sanitary engineer is an engineer. It's designed and produced, no doubt to specifications, but if it's actually engineered, the engineers are drunk. Every piece is warped. Every 60th piece is mis-shapen and can't be used. I have to admit it looks great, though. Maybe one day I'll have the energy to put batteries in the camera and take pictures. Or get Zoe to take a few.

Mike and Hugh will be back at it. Maybe tonight the door will be in. We kind of left the doorway unfloored, as we have 4 options to choose from and need Mike's opinion. He'll have one, it will be option 5, and it will look good but take hours to do. Poor Hugh. Glad I have a day job!